


some of us are looking at the stars

by credencebarebonedeservedbetter



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Credence is the son of a very rich foster mother, Graves a lawyer with heart eyes for him, M/M, credence is an artist, murder mystery?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:22:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/credencebarebonedeservedbetter/pseuds/credencebarebonedeservedbetter
Summary: Credence is the adopted son of Mary Lou Barebone, a wealthy, God-fearing New England socialite. While he spends his summer after high school graduation planning his eventual escape of the abusive home, a charming lawyer starts to frequent the house on special "business." However, his attention strays elsewhere as he gets closer to the peculiar son.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, uh, I hope you guys like this.

_ Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. _

Credence Barebone stared at that line in his book for several moments, rereading it over and over again. He wanted to preserve it forever. He thought maybe he could pull out his history notebook and jot it down there, but he never felt safe enough to have things of his own like that. Mary Lou might find it, and Credence couldn’t be caught copying down quotes from an Oscar Wilde novel. A known  _ homosexual _ .

Instead he just carefully closed the weak spined library book, holding it against his chest in a very cherished way. He thought about the day where he could actually own a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, place it proudly on a shelf. Someday, he hoped, he could live without fear. Someday he might not be a tragic thing.

He sat up in his bed, walking over to the center of the room. Beneath the rug there was a loose board, as it was a very old New England house, owned by centuries of rich assholes. He found it one day by accident, and it had been his secret storage ever since. 

Credence hid all sorts of things down there, not just Oscar Wilde library books. Notebooks filled with his writing and drawings, his favorite pastimes when he knew he wouldn’t be bothered up in his room. A copy of Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, which Mary Lou would burn if she ever saw. A few pictures he still had of his biological parents who passed away when Credence was very young. 

He can’t remember his parents much now, but in the few pictures he still had of them, they were holding him with such big smiles on their eyes. Whenever Credence got very sad, he liked to look at the pictures to remind him that at some point, he was loved. 

Mary Lou gave him no love. She was a wretched, God fearing woman who inherited a large sum of money after her own parents died. She was married once, but the man died of a weak heart a year after, and Credence figured he knew why. Mary Lou’s religion didn’t believe in remarriage, so in order to start her own family, she decided to adopt several children as an act of humanity. Unfortunately, she knew nothing of humanity.

Credence was the oldest of the kids, and he had been paying for it ever since. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to complain, however. The house was practically a mansion in it’s own right, and he always had food to eat and clothes on his back. It didn’t matter all that much if the clothing covered scars from belts.

She kept that part of her private, however. The community knew her as a loving woman, a mother of four troubled foster children. Not only that, she held many charity events at their home for the church. Tonight was one of those nights. 

Credence wasn’t allowed to go outside and mingle with the guests, as Mary Lou preferred to keep him hidden, which didn’t bother him at all. Especially tonight. The place was crawling with politicians, all swarmy politicians trying to get on the good side of the church community in Winchester. They just wanted the money of rich, simple minded people like Mary Lou. As long as they praised Jesus, they were likely to get it.

He could have sat staring at those photographs for hours if it had not been for the sound of approaching footsteps. Quickly, Credence repositioned the wooden board and threw the rug over it. He stood just as the door was opened.

It was his little sister, Modesty, poking her head through the heavy wooden door.

“Hey, Cre,” she murmured.

Credence motioned for her to come on in, and she followed suit. Their relationship was always rocky. They had grown to love one another through the good times and the bad, however, as Credence got older and realized the way Mary Lou was brainwashing them with fear, Modesty did not. She wasn’t stupid, though; she knew that, and it caused a lack of trust between the two. They didn’t talk much anymore, either.

“There’s a weird guy in the house.”

He sighed. “Don’t they know that they’re not supposed to come into the house?”

“It’s making me feel uncomfortable,” Modesty muttered. “I heard him go upstairs.”

“I’m sure he’ll go back outside soon.”

She made a noise of protest. “Please, Cre. I can’t go to bed if I know that that guy is in our house.”

He began to pity her, knowing why she was untrustworthy of strangers. He also knew their reality. “Mary Lou doesn’t like us talking to her guests.”

Modesty looked outside of the window in Credence’s room that overlooked the extensive yard. The night was winding down, but Mary Lou could still be spotted in the center of the whole affair, animatedly talking to a group of people, always an unlikely socialite.

“She doesn’t have to know. Please.”

Credence watched all the people in their fancy suits and dresses and wondered if they were just as bad as Mary Lou. Seeing them altogether like that, however, made him feel quite lonely, even standing next to Modesty.

“Alright,” he murmured. “If it bothers you that much.”

They exited the room together, and Modesty walked over to her own door. She turned in the threshold before entering, and smiled. “Thank you, Cre. I love you.”

He was reminded why he did things for his sisters, even when he knew it might get him in trouble. 

Credence walked up the stairs, his footsteps light from years of sneaking around. The third floor of the three story house was a place that the kids weren’t usually supposed to be in. Mary Lou’s master bedroom was located there, including her study, prayer room, a guest room, and the extensive library. 

He walked down to the end of the hallway, the library door open. A small bit of light emitted from the room, likely one of the reading lamps. Credence did his best to control his fear and anxiety as he inched closer to the threshold of the door. Slowly, he moved his head to look inside the room.

Sure enough, a man stood in front of a set of bookshelves. He was tall, with a strong looking build and black, slicked back hair. He was looking at something he had pulled from the shelves. Credence didn’t think he could go in and confront the man, but then he remembered his promise to Modesty.

He thought maybe he could go back down the hall a bit and try and plan out what he would say to the man. However, that was ruined when, in an attempt to be sneaky and sly, he accidentally hit the hallway wall with his bony elbow. The man quickly turned around, looking directly at Credence.

His first instinct was to gasp and pull his head back behind the doorway, wanting to just run back downstairs in embarrassment.

“Hello,” the man said, and Credence practically shivered from his voice, something that could only be described as deep and warm. “Is everything alright?”

Credence began silently cursing himself and his uncontrollable limbs. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to just run away, so he did his best to recollect himself and walk into the room. He kept his head down, staring at the ground as he always did when talking to others, the only exception being his sisters.

“U-um, hello. I-I’m Credence, and, um, well…” He struggled with every word.

Luckily, the man quickly interrupted him. “You’re one of Miss Barebone’s children, aren’t you?”

Credence nodded, eyes still looking at the rug. “Adopted child, yes.”

It was one of the few occasions in which he dared correct an adult.

“I heard her talking of you earlier tonight…” he began, moving closer. Credence, in return, moved back a little. “She said you’re considering Harvard for this fall. That’s really something to be proud of.”

He wanted to scoff, maybe to even laugh. He certainly didn’t want to go to Harvard. In fact, he wanted to go anywhere  _ but  _ Harvard. Somewhere farther away from Massachusettes, somewhere he can study art, not religion and politics.  He wanted to be free from Mary Lou and his oppressive upbringing.

“Are you okay?”

Credence did his best to look up into the eyes of the man in front of him, now getting a good look. God, he was  _ beautiful.  _ Men made Credence even more nervous than usual when they were attractive like that. He noticed it since he was young. 

The man had dark eyes that looked so strongly at you, topped by thick eyebrows. He was… smiling at Credence? Most of Mary Lou’s friends didn’t smile at him; they treated him just as she did. This relaxed him somewhat, and he tried to let his guard down just a bit and enjoy looking at him.

“I’m fine,” Credence let out, voice barely above a whisper as he looked at the man with big eyes.

His smile faltered when he realized that he was not fine. “My name is Percival Graves, I’m a lawyer.”

“I didn’t think Mary Lou had many lawyer friends.”

“Well, I’m not actually a close friend of hers, I must admit. This is one of my few times even meeting her. I’m from New York originally. I met Mary Lou’s husband in university. At Harvard, actually. We were roommates, and we studied law together. After school, of course, he married her and settled down here. I went back to New York, and the only times I ever met Mary Lou was the wedding and then the funeral.”

Credence listened carefully, eyes shifting back to the floor throughout the story. “I’m sorry for the loss, Mr. Graves.”

He laughed, helping to release the tension of the room. “Please, just call me Graves. Most people do.”

Credence nodded. He tried to find words to say, but his mind was somewhat blank when he looked at the man’s very distracting face.

“I know I’m not supposed to be in the house, but Mary Lou sent me up here to collect a few things of Abraham’s. Hope that’s alright.”

Graves spoke as he cautiously moved closer. “Are you always so nervous, Credence?”

He swallowed nervously, shifting his eyes to look at the man’s beautiful face once more. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t need to apologize, and you don’t need to call me sir.”

Credence did his best to not to apologize again directly after being told not to apologize. He had never felt so comforted by someone before, and he was beginning to trust the odd man in the library.

Then, he said something that Credence never expected to hear.

“Mary Lou sorta seems like a dick, if you ask me.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, but he  _ did  _ quickly compose himself.

Graves laughed along with him. “I’m glad to see you didn’t take offence.”

He moved closer, and suddenly they were face to face.

“Why are you back here if you live in New York? Why would you ever want to leave a place like that?”

He let out a sigh. “Just some personal business. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around a lot this summer, Credence. Which seems good to me.”

Credence was suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. The heavy, intoxicating scent of Grave’s cologne only added to the fervor. He figured he was so close that Graves could probably hear the sound of his racing heart, too.

He opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by the unfamiliar voice of a woman. It sounded like she was standing in the middle of the stairs. “Perrrcy, are you up here?”

Graves sighed to himself, looking away from Credence. “Yes, Tina. I’ll be down in a second.”

“Hurry up! I wanna go home. A woman keeps trying to convince me how the devil created vaccines and I just can’t deal with it anymore.”

“How unfortunate,” Graves muttered as he walked to other side of the library, picking up a cardboard box full of files and a few books. They must have been the things of Mary Lou’s late husband that he spoke of.

“I’ll go say goodbye and meet you by the car,” the woman finished, walking back down the stairs.

Graves smiled at Credence for one last time. “As I said, I expect to be back at the house for some personal business, and I sincerely hope I see you again. Goodnight, Credence.”

As he walked away, Credence’s impulsivity got the best of him. “What was he like?”

Graves stopped, turning around. “What?”

“Abraham… Mary Lou’s husband. What was he like?”

“He was a kind man. He loved God and all the things God created, and that’s what drove him. He was good.  _ Too  _ good for this world, apparently.”

Credence nodded his head, eyes falling back to the ground. Part of him wished to hear that Abraham was a monster, too, and he is much better off without him there. 

Graves sighed and spoke quietly. “I know that you weren’t his son, but… you remind me a lot of him, actually.”

With that, he turned and descended the staircase, and Credence wished he never had to leave. Suddenly, he was very excited about the prospect of summer if Graves would be there.

He went off to bed, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered the Oscar Wilde quote about exquisite things, and he wondered if this one had anything tragic about him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mary lou is a dick


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys! thanks for the lovely response to the first chapter. I really hope I don't disappoint! this is my first gradence fic, so I'm doing my best to get the characters right, and I hope that I have been. I'm really excited about this story! thanks for reading. also, I just made a side tumblr special for fbawtft and gradence, so check it out maybe idk you don't have to: https://somebodygivecredenceahug.tumblr.com/

Credence spent the next four days watching the road outside. As he sat in the window nook at the end of the second floor hallway, he wondered what kind of car lawyers drove.

“We need to talk.”

He was quickly jolted out of his private thoughts, turning around to find Mary Lou behind him. With a scowl and crossed arms, he knew she was in possibly an even worse mood than usual. He began analyzing her words, his mind going into a panic. Did she know what he was thinking about? 

Credence did his best not to show his guilt. “Yes, Ma’am?”

His heart pounded as he waited, his brain going over every possible grievance she could have with him.

“Have you picked out a college yet?”

_ Oh _ . Credence let his mind relax if only for a moment. She just wanted to talk about college, something they had both been arguing about lately. He didn’t really want to go to Harvard, and, regardless of how much she enjoyed telling her friends about it, Mary Lou didn’t want him going there, either. She wanted him to go somewhere painfully religious and far away from her. 

“Not exactly.”

She sighed, and Credence could feel her rising anger. “Figure it out. You’re running out of time.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I just don’t have a whole lot of information on most schools.”

“Fine. You can do some research on my computer while I’m out.”

Credence just nodded, knowing better than to ask where she was going. He followed her upstairs, into her room where the only computer in the house was located. It was locked with a long password, and she routinely checked the history on it. 

He kept his back turned as she typed in the password.

“Credence,” she began in her authoritarian tone. “I’m going to very busy this summer sorting out a few legal issues. Different people will be coming to the household, and I don’t want you to talk to  _ any  _ of them. Stay away from them completely. The same goes for your sisters.”

He was confused, curious, and heartbroken all at once. If Graves was being honest when he told him that he would be back to the house, then this meant that talking to him could get Credence into a lot of trouble. Regardless of his fascination with the new, mysterious man, he was also worried about what these “legal issues” were. 

Maybe Graves wasn’t at all what he seemed. Maybe he was actually in a lawsuit against Mary Lou. Had he lied to Credence? Was he actually just trying to get information from him?

“Ma’am,” Credence whispered. “May I ask what the legal issues are?”

“No.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

Mary Lou made a sound of annoyance. “Only use it for college research, Credence,” she muttered before exiting the room. She would never say goodbye, just a final command.

As instructed, he used the computer very cautiously, always making sure not to click on anything that could possibly upset Mary Lou. However, that seemed to leave him with a very limited selection of things to do online. 

After about twenty minutes of looking up “best colleges in America,” Credence figured that she had to have left the house by then. Hesitantly, he opened an incognito tab, knowing that it wouldn’t end up on the computer’s history. An old trick of his that the not so tech savvy Mary Lou had yet to figure out.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, and he wondered if he should just exit out of the page and keep looking at colleges. Maybe Mary Lou was still just outside the room, waiting to catch him. Then he thought of the one thing that had been on his mind lately, and his intrigue outweighed his fear.

Slowly, he typed  _ Percival Graves  _ into the search bar of Google. It was odd enough of a name that there surely couldn’t be thousands of them to browse through, Credence figured, and he was correct. The first link to pop up was his LinkedIn account. While there wasn’t likely anything too interesting on there, he still clicked on it.

A photo of Graves popped up, a very subtle smile as he smoldered into the camera. It was professional looking, Credence thought, but still gave him butterflies like he was a middle school girl seeing his crush in the lunch line. His location was labeled as New York, New York, and a law firm was listed as his current job. And, sure enough, his education was from Harvard.

Before he could even attempt to do any more snooping, the page produced a pop up, telling Credence that if he wanted to view the account, he would have to pay for premium access. He scoffed, closing the tab. It was still good to know that Graves wasn’t lying to him.

The next link under the search was an article from a New York newspaper.  _ A Win for New York Homeless Shelters.  _ Credence clicked on the article, dated about a year ago. From his skimming of the text, he learned that apparently Graves did a pro bono case for a string of homeless shelters facing a lawsuit in New York. He smiled brightly, excited to see that he seemed like a good very good man.

With some more clicking, Credence found a photo that looked quite old, Graves appearing quite young. It was from some Harvard archives, titled  _ Members of the Queer Students and Allies Group Celebrate First Meeting, 1997.  _

As he read the word “queer,” his eyes widened and he stopped breathing for several minutes. He scrolled down the list of the names of those in the photo (just to be positive) and, sure enough, Percival Graves was on that list.

He quickly exited out of the page completely, feeling his heart beat faster and faster in his chest. 

\--------------------------

It was less than an hour later, as Credence did his best to actually focus on college websites, that the phone rang, distracting him from his research. They had a landline phone system, with sets all around the house. Mary Lou liked it that way, so she could listen in on any conversation. Suffice it to say, phone calls were very uncomfortable.

Credence stared at the phone that sat on the desk, wondering who was calling. He knew that it would probably be safe to answer, considering Mary Lou was out. Modesty was actually the only other person home, as their other sisters, the twins, were at a religious camp for the summer.

The ringing stopped, and the receiver beeped to begin recording a message.  _ Hello, Miss Barebone. It’s Percival Graves, calling again about the case at hand. I know it’s a sore subject for you, but I was hoping we could get together to talk about it. _

Credence stared at the phone, trying to fight the urge to pick it up. He really wanted to talk to Graves, though, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity… But he figured it would be best to let him finish the message, then call back quickly.

_ Please, call me back. I’ll be in town for a while, and you can’t avoid me forever, I’m afraid. _

The message ended, and Credence thought that it was a very suspicious. The last line almost seemed threatening. No one ever dared be threatening to Mary Lou. This made Credence that much more fascinated.

He took a deep breath, thought of the consequences of being caught, and then picked up the phone and hit the call back button. He bit down on his bottom lip as he waited for Graves to pick up, and thought about smashing the phone back in the set and pretending like he never heard it ring in the first place. 

Before he could chicken out, however, the ringing stopped.

“Hello?”

Credence breathed heavily, pushing the receiver away from his mouth. 

“Mary Lou?”

“N-no,” he began, trying not to stutter but failing. He was never good at phone calls. “It’s me, uh, Credence. I don’t know if you remember me, I’m one of Mary Lou’s adop-”

“Of course I remember you, Credence. It’s lovely to hear from you. Much better than having to answer the phone to your mother. She must not be home.”

“No, she’s not. Forgive me for saying, but you don’t seem to like her very much.”

Credence heard Graves let out a sigh on the other line, almost like he didn’t want to reply. “It’s complicated between us. I don’t know if she’s told you anything.”

“No,” he replied quickly, hoping that Graves would give him some information. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Just a bit of bad blood, is all. I’m surprised she hasn’t warned you about me yet. I’m sure the sermon will come soon.”

Credence walked over to the windows beside Mary Lou’s bed, overlooking the front of the house. Her car was nowhere in sight. Just a street full of enormous houses and their fancy cars.

“Can you be more specific?”

Graves chuckled a little. “I’d rather not talk about it. How about we just talk.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

Credence tried to hide how nervous he was. He always had social anxiety, which made it very difficult for him to make friends or even go out in public. Thanks to his upbringing, he couldn’t trust people or connect with them. Others needed to be incredibly patient and persistent, and most just weren’t. Credence understand, though. He wouldn’t want to deal with his issues, either.

“There’s not much to talk about, I’m afraid,” he mumbled.

He wondered what Graves was thinking. Was he smiling? Was he cringing? Was he actually happy that Credence called.

“I doubt that.”

“Really… I’m nothing interesting.”

“Well, I’m quite interested in you, Credence.”

His grip on the phone got tighter, and his heart felt funny. “Why are you being so nice to me, Mr. Graves? Is this about your issue with Mary Lou?”

There was a moment of silence. “Do you think I’m trying to  _ manipulate  _ you?”

He almost sounded… offended?

Credence didn’t respond, not quite knowing what to say. He wondered if he was too rude, if he crossed a line.

“I wouldn’t do that, Credence. I just like talking to you. Are people not usually kind to you?”

The question made him very upset, and he didn’t know how to respond to it at all. Luckily, he didn’t have to. At the end of the road, Credence saw the black Lexus that Mary Lou drove, and run to the other side of the room.

“She’s just got home, and I’m not supposed to be talking to you. Please don’t tell her about this.” After a moment, he added, “Goodbye,” and slammed the phone back into the set.

It was only about twenty minutes later that Credence noticed the phone buzz again, and he realized that Mary Lou must be making a call downstairs. He thought about maybe picking up the phone and listening in on the conversation, figuring it must be with Graves. But he didn’t want to risk it. So he just watched the timer on the screen of the phone, counting out how long the call was, until it stopped counting, and the screen went black.

“Credence! Come here!”

From all the way upstairs, Mary Lou’s voice wasn’t that scary, but he was terrified nevertheless. It was about ten minutes after she got home, and he wondered if she had found out about everything. 

He rushed down the stairs, hoping to avoid getting her any more upset than she already was, and found Mary Lou in the kitchen, putting away groceries. She had a sour face, but that wasn’t anything new.

“Everything alright?” He choked out, hoping that she couldn’t smell his guilt.

“Did you hear the phone ring?”

He swallowed sharply, feeling a lump in his throat. “Yes, ma’am. I figured you didn’t want me to answer it.”

“Good. I didn’t. Listen, the man who left the message is coming over for dinner tonight. I just invited him. I don’t want you to say anything… incriminating. Only speak if you’re spoken to, and keep it casual. Normal. We need to look… normal.”

Credence put his head down, not wanting to look her in the eyes. “Is everything alright?”

A loud, sudden slam of the cabinets caused Credence’s head to snap back up, finding Mary Lou with balled fists and a face of rage. Instinctively, he flinched at the sound, and began to back up slowly, hoping that she wouldn't get any closer to him.

Her anger seemed very focused, however, much different than the way she would usually violently lash out. Through shallow breaths, Mary Lou tried to calm herself down. When she spoke, Credence almost felt very sorry for her, as her voice came out as a whisper.

“He’s trying to tear our family apart, Credence. You have no idea.”

He opened his mouth, trying to find an appropriate response, but had nothing to say. Credence didn’t know who was telling the truth. Maybe they both were. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aren't you excited for Dinner with the Barebone Family???


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, hopefully I'm not being annoying by updating so close together. they're not very long chapters, but it's the way I prefer to read, you know? I'm just excited, is all. hope you guys like it!! I took a few liberties with Modesty's character, but I like this version of her much better than the cannon one.

All my children are very special. They are intelligent and hardworking, and, above all, they are faithful to our lord. Adopting them was the best decision I ever made, and I only wish Abraham was here to enjoy raising them as much as I do.”

Credence was split between feeling appalled by her blatant lies and hope that maybe they weren’t  _ complete  _ lies. Regardless of how much he hated Mary Lou, he also prayed that one day he could be good enough for her, which only made him feel weak. Something about her words made him feel warm inside if only for a moment, until he remembered that it wasn’t true, and that she only pretended to love him.

Percival Graves, on the other hand, made a little noise that almost sounded like he was suppressing a scoff. “That’s really lovely of you,” he remarked, his head turned slightly to stare at her from across the table. It was clear that there was something venomous in his words.

It was a very, very uncomfortable dinner, especially for Modesty and Credence, who didn’t know what was going on. The dining table was rectangular with five seats, and, as always, Mary Lou sat at the head of the table. Modesty sat in the seat adjacent to her, an empty seat across from her. Graves sat beside Modesty, leaving Credence the seat directly across from his.

When Graves wasn’t glaring at Mary Lou or glancing down at his food, he was looking straight ahead at Credence with unnerving softness. His face felt warm, probably an embarrassing shade of red, and he prayed that no one else noticed. He did his best to focus on the chicken and vegetables on his plate, not the man sitting in front of him.

“What about you two,” Graves began, clearing his throat in what seemed like an attempt to ease the tension. “Do you enjoy living here with Mary Lou?”

First he looked to Modesty, just beside him. She looked from Graves to Mary Lou, back to Graves. It was clear she didn’t know if she should respond or not. “Of course,” she mumbled, sounding quite non-committal. “I love it here. She saved us from life in an orphanage, and showed us the glory of God.”

Credence had to hand it to her; that was a good answer. He figured she was better at things like that because she was still faithful in not only God but also Mary Lou. He couldn’t exactly blame her, either. She didn’t feel her wrath nearly as much as Credence had growing up.

Graves nodded with a warm smile, one that seemed genuine. His head turned to Credence, the smile remaining. He had never been looked at like that, and it made him feel lightheaded.

“Do you feel the same, Credence?”

Hearing his name spoken in that voice didn’t help, either. He did his best to come up with as good of an answer as Modesty, though his would be complete bullshit. His lack of focus, however, forced him to just mumble, “Yes, exactly the same.” If he couldn’t come up with his own answer, he would just have to piggyback off from Modesty’s.

“Credence is a special boy,” Mary Lou stated with an unwavering voice. “It’ll be tough for me to say goodbye to him once he heads off to college. You know, you should tell him about your Harvard days.”

He didn’t much like having the attention of the conversation on himself. Especially when he could feel Graves’ eyes on him, watching him so carefully. Nothing about anything made sense to Credence today.

“He does seem very special, Mary Lou. I suppose you are right about some things,” he replied, waiting until Credence looked up at him to continue. “Harvard was fine for me, but I think it would be good for him to get out of Massachusettes, don’t you think? No one should spend their entire life in one place.”

Mary Lou scoffed. “Nonsense. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I plan to die here. Happily.”

Graves didn’t bother taking his eyes off from Credence. “One shouldn’t let their personal growth be hindered by stagnant surroundings and the same people. People, especially those raised in New England mansions, have to at least attempt to see more of the world, Mary Lou.”

It was clear that she was  _ not  _ impressed by his opinions. She sat there glaring at him with her hand wrapped in a fist around her knife, not trying to cut her chicken anymore. As much as Credence resented her, he was always impressed by her ability to maintain a false facade. Tonight, however, she wasn’t as calm and collected.

“Well, I believe that people, especially those raised in group homes, shouldn’t be so judgemental.”

A silence fell over the table, and Graves was getting more and more visibly angry as the seconds passed by. Credence looked to Mary Lou, or seemed to have realized that she let herself go too far. It was clear that she was trying to stay on Graves’ good side… and was failing miserably.

“Enough about my family,” Mary Lou began, in what must have been her attempt at a friendly tone. “How have you been, Percival?”

He eyed her viciously, looking right through her act. “As wonderful as ever. Enjoying my… what was that you called it? My  _ hedonistic lifestyle _ .”

The way that he got under Mary Lou’s skin… so completely unafraid and undaunted by her. It was almost inspirational to Credence. He  _ had  _ to know more about this man. 

Mary Lou, however, was not as pleased with this unwavering defiance against her, and it was painfully obvious. “I said those things a long time ago, Percival. I’m sure you now live a very virtuous life, even in a wasteland like New York.”

“It’s a beautiful city, actually. Speaking of colleges, Credence, there’s some amazing ones right in the city. That would be quite the culture shock, I bet.”

Credence couldn’t help but smile at the idea of living in a place like New York, especially as suggested by Percival Graves. The smile was quickly thwarted by Mary Lou’s noise of disgust.

“Credence could never survive in a city like that. He’s much too righteous.”

Graves set his fork down carefully, and wiped his mouth with one of the expensive, cloth napkins they kept at the table. “You know, it’s funny you say that,” he began with a grin on his face. “Because Abraham used to  _ love  _ coming up to New York with me. He said it was the most beautiful city that he had ever seen.”

“That’s enough!” Mary Lou’s shout caught everyone by surprise, causing Credence and Modesty to keep their heads down and eyes straight ahead of them by habit. Graves, however, stared right back at her. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Mary Lou as she sprang to her feet. “I invited you to  _ my  _ home, I fed you  _ my  _ food, and  _ you  _ have the audacity to talk about my late husband like this?”

Slowly, she began to walk to the opposite end of the table, where Graves sat with balled fists. Putting her head right in front of his, she whispered, “I don’t know what you are trying to do to me, but I didn’t kill Abraham.”

\------------------------

 

The next few days in the Barebone household were stiff and difficult. Credence and Modesty tiptoed around Mary Lou. They were terrified of doing something that might set her off again, practically holding their breaths every time they were unfortunate enough to be around her.

There was no conversation about the dinner or the things said during it. In fact, Mary Lou just went on her wicked way, pretending that nothing had even happen. Credence and Modesty, meanwhile, would sit together and make all kinds of theories and conspiracies about what was going on between her and Graves. Of course, this only happened when they were sure that she couldn’t hear them.

It helped when, after about a week after the unsettling dinner, she announced a trip she was taking to Maryland as an “honorary guest” at some religious convention. It didn’t matter to them, though. As long as she was out of sight.

Most of their ideas included Mary Lou actually having killed Abraham Barebone. While they had no evidence of this, except for the years of sociopathic torture that they endured from her, they were unsurprisingly eager to pin a murder on her.

“Do you think… she really did it?”

It was a question that had of course been rattling around inside of Credence’s brain since the dinner, but to hear it said out loud by Modesty as they sat on his dusty hardwood floor really changed things. It made it seem more real, no longer a joke for them to obsess over.

Credence thought very carefully about how he should respond. Credence told Modesty all about the first night he had met Percival Graves, up in the library. He even admitted to having called him back the day of the unsettling dinner. It was only later that he began to regret confessing all those things, as he remembered that Modesty could still not be completely trusted with his secrets.

“I think that that Graves guy really thinks she did,” Credence maintained, deciding that it seemed like a safe answer.

Modesty sighed, pulling her legs close to her chest, resting her head on her knees. He felt bad for her, he really did. She may be unloyal sometimes, and she may have spent a good portion of her childhood snitching on him, but Credence still cared about her immensely. He knew that there was a good part of her, untouched by the cruelty of Mary Lou, deep inside of her.

“It’s just so… confusing, you know? Mr. Graves seems like a good guy, so why does he think such a terrible thing.”

Credence shrugged, trying to play coy.  “He does seem quite nice.”

A big grin spread across Modesty’s face, eyebrows raised. “He does seem to like you quite a bit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Credence asked, heart beginning to beat faster, his cheeks likely turning pink.

“Nothing!” She said through a giggle. “He just, like, totally kept his eyes on you, but not in the way he looked at Mary Lou. Much softer, much sweeter.”

Credence cursed her for being so noticing. On one hand, he knew that he should pretend like he doesn’t give a shit how Graves was looking at him, but on the other hand, he  _ needed _ to know more.

“You’ve been reading too much Jane Austen, Modesty.”

She let out a hearty laugh. “No. Bronte, actually.”

Credence just did his best to hide his grin, giving her a disapproving head shake.

“You could be the Jane Eyre to his Mr. Rochester.”

“That’s enough!” He announced, standing up quickly and walking away in embarrassment. He looked into the mirror hanging over his desk, and sighed. “He’d have to be blind like Mr. Rochester, too.”

Modesty gasped. “What do you mean? You’re beautiful, Credence,” she began, standing up, too, and moving beside him to also look in the mirror. “And you know that I’m telling you the truth because we don’t even share the same genes.”

He rolled his eyes, still smiling. These were the moments he enjoyed with Modesty. When she was able to forget the predatory brainwashing of her childhood and just… be his friend. Everyday was pleasantly surprised with how much more of the bullshit she was able to see through. This newfound rebellious spirit was still troublesome, though.

“I have an idea!” Modesty exclaimed with a devious grin. “We should call Graves and ask him what he thinks about everything.”

“What?” Credence began to panic. “No, that’s way too dangerous! Do you want Mary Lou to belt us when she gets home?”

“She’s all the way in Maryland, Cre. We’ll tell him to keep the conversation a complete secret. She’s not gonna find out.”

He shook his head back and forth, beginning to stutter through his words. “No, no, please. I… I don’t wanna talk to him. We can’t trust him, anyways. Who’s to say he won’t use us against her like he did at dinner?”

Modesty shook her head, reaching for the phone set on Credence’s desk. “Calm down, alright. I just want some answers, and I feel like, if you’re the one asking, he’ll answer.”

Credence watched with a sorrowful face as she pulled out the little business card that Graves had slipped to them when Mary Lou wasn’t looking. With every number she typed, he got more and more anxious. 

She hit call, putting the phone against her face. After a few moments, her face broke out in a smile. “Hello, Mr. Graves. It’s Modesty Barebone…. Yes, she’s out of town for a week… I know, right… Anyways, my brother Credence wants to talk to you about something.”

His eyes widened in panic, and he began waving his hands in crazy motions to silently tell her to shut up. Of course, she didn’t listen to him. In a matter of seconds, she was handing the phone over with an excited face.

Credence reluctantly took the phone in hand, regretting it the second after he did it. “H-hello,” he stuttered into the receiver. 

“Hello, Credence.” The voice, so deep and beautiful, already made the awkward phonecall worth it. “How are you?”

“I-I’m fine. What about you?”

“Just finishing up some work an-”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting that,” Credence interjected, about to slam the phone back into the home set. “Please, forgive us. We can call back at another time.”

“No, no! It’s perfectly fine,” he replied quickly. “I’m very happy that you called, actually. I like hearing your voice.”

Credence must have turned a new shade of red. Was it irony or fate that they were thinking the same thing about each other's voices?

“Me too. Well, I like hearing  _ your _ voice, not mine, I mean.”

Percival laughed. “What was it that you needed to talk to me about?”

Suddenly the thrill of talking to Graves subsided, and Credence was forced to remember the serious matter at hand. He wondered if it was a bad idea to ask about Mary Lou, if maybe he should just do what she was doing and completely ignore what happened that night.

“Credence? Are you still there?”

He shut his eyes and bit his bottom lip before quickly asking, “What do you know about Mary Lou that we don’t?”

There was a sigh from the other line, and Credence was again pushed into fear that he upset Graves. “Listen,” he began, his tone also changing. “I’d rather talk to you two in person, if that’s alright with you.”

Credence looked up to Modesty, standing in front of him with wide, expectant eyes. Whether or not he thought it was a good idea, he knew that he had to say yes for her. Not to mention, the thought of seeing Graves again without Mary Lou around was very promising.

“Alright… You can come over, but Mary Lou can’t find out.”

After a moment of silence, Graves replied, “It’ll be our secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue Dirty Little Secret by the All-American Rejects*
> 
> *also, if anyone knows where I stole that "must be blind like mr rochester" joke from pls expose me in the comments


	4. Chapter 4

Very few memories of Credence’s childhood remain with him. While he was always praised by teachers for his fantastic memory, he just couldn’t recall large gaps of time in his youth, time periods that most other people can remember. 

He always wondered why. Doctors did, too, at first. Until Mary Lou told them to forget about it, that Credence was just a forgetful boy, that he was too lazy to retain that information. The older he got, the more he realized that those memories were probably blocked out of his mind, repressed like a stain removed by bleach. 

They likely weren’t memories he wanted to remember. 

One of the most vivid memories from his childhood was when he was ten years old. By then he had been adopted, his parents dead along with old Abraham Barebone. Mary Lou, much to her chagrin, was still required to take the kids to sessions with psychologists, to make sure that everything was okay with their new adoptive parents. To save kids from bad homes.

Unfortunately, they never saved Credence.

He wondered now if she paid them off, not to say anything about the unresponsive ten year old boy with scars and red eyes. Maybe they just didn’t give a shit about their job. Regardless, it was at one of these sessions that Credence was able to discover a passion of his that would carry him forward, help him overcome the obstacles ahead. And there proved to be many obstacles.

At the sessions, they would talk to him for a very long time, about Mary Lou and home and school. Credence answered the way he knew she would want him to, the way she told him to, or else he would get punished. 

The lady, however, asked him to do something very different. She gave him a sheet of crisp, white paper, and a box of crayons. 

“Draw me a picture,” she said.

Credence stared at the paper for a very long time. He had no idea what to do, and he got very scared. Mary Lou hated when he didn’t know what to do, and he was afraid that the psychologist might punish him as well. 

“Don’t cry,” she whispered, rubbing his back delicately. “You don’t have to draw anything, but I would love to see what you come up with. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, Credence. Just draw me a picture of yourself.”

He thought very hard about himself, but it hurt to think about things like that. He usually tried not to, actually. He did draw her something, though. The self portrait she had asked for.

It didn’t make her smile the way that kid’s drawings usually did, however. She stared at it for a very long time, her brow furrowed, mouth open slightly. Finally, she looked back to Credence. “Is this what you think you look like?”

“That’s how I feel.”

Without saying anymore, the lady stood up and walked over to the bookshelves that made up the back wall of the room. With a little looking, she selected a large hardcover book and brought it back to the little table.

“Many artists make self portraits, Credence. Would you like to see how they made theirs?”

Credence made no response, except for moving his head up slightly to look at the big pictures in front of him, watching as she flipped through the book.

“Here is Frida Kahlo's. Well, she had many self portraits, but this is my favorite. You see, there’s two of her, and they’re holding hands. Lots of people debate what it means, but Frida herself explained it as an imaginary childhood friend of hers. Do you have any friends, Credence?”

He shook his head, eyes returning to the ground.

“Do you like the picture?”

Slowly, he nodded. 

“You know what, what about Pablo Picasso’s,” she murmured, flipping the pages once again. “He drew multiple self portraits throughout his life as well. When he was young, he drew this one,”

Credence looked up again, ever slightly, to see a painting of a handsome boy, painted with dark colors. 

“He was fifteen when he painted this.”

She flips the page.

“This one, however… he was twenty years old, and going through a difficult time in his life. He had lost someone very close to him, very important in his life. You know what that’s like, don’t you, Credence?”

He tried not to think about the man and the woman in the picture that he always kept folded up in his pocket. He hated thinking about them. He stared at the image of a man, drawn in dark colors and surrounded by only a suffocating shade of blue. 

“He didn’t stay in this blue period forever, though. Things changed when a met someone he loved very much, and he went into his rose period. Look at this one, Credence.”

The new picture in front of him was very different, almost like a completely different person. “This was painted only a few years after the last one, and look how much he changed. Light colors, fun and creativity back in his work.”

Credence looked at the painting and tried not to cry.

“What I’m trying to tell you, Credence… You can change. Things may seem bleak for you right now, but the world won’t put you through pain forever. I promise. You won’t be in your blue period forever.”

With those final words, she closed the book, standing up to return it to the bookshelf from which she had retrieved it. As she walked away, Credence picked up the drawing he had done earlier and looked at it as a few tears ran down his face.

In thick, black crayon he had made many furious scribbles. A big, round mess of dark anger and pain. He wiped the tears falling down his face, and began to rip the page apart into what felt like a million tiny pieces.

\----------

“I don’t really know where to begin.”

Modesty and Credence sat on the big, leather sofa in the living room, flown in from Italy when the last one just got too shabby for Mary Lou. While it was long and spacious, they still sat side by side. Together, they stared across the glass coffee table to the loveseat, where Percival Graves sat with an indiscernible expression.

Modesty sighed, her confidence and excitement from before gone. “Please, just explain everything to us.”

Just as it had been during their dinner together, the tension in the room was palpable, even without Mary Lou. Credence, emboldened by her absence, now took more time to look at Graves. 

He studied his face, taking in all the little details, and noticed his wardrobe, even the flashy tie pins. It was fascinating for him to not just have to go off from little glimpses he caught before quickly putting his head down again. Credence could finally just look at the man the way he had been able to look at him.

Unfortunately, as he watched him, he realized that he didn’t seem alright. In fact, he looked shaky, like he was considering jumping up and leaving right away. Credence didn’t want that, though; he wanted to keep him in the house for as long as possible.

He also wanted answers, regardless of his little crush on him.

“Really, we don’t know anything, and Mary Lou would never tell us what’s going on. Please, just give us  _ some _ kind of context.”

Graves finally peered up from his drink to lock eyes with Credence. It was an electrifying moment for him, but he quickly looked away, still unable to maintain eye contact. Of course, he wanted to, but he just always struggled with things like that.

He cleared his throat hesitantly, and then began. “I’m sorry about that dinner incident. It was wrong of me to say anything like that in front of you, I just couldn’t control myself. Please, forgive me.”

The two of them looked to one another and then back to Graves, nodding in unison as to say  _ we forgive you.  _ They didn’t really care for niceties at that point, they just wanted to get to the point.

“I’ve always had my suspicions when it came to Abraham’s death, and I spent a lot of time… investigating right after. I suspected Mary Lou from the start. She never seemed right to me, I must admit.”

“I thought he just died of illness,” Modesty interrupted, biting her lip.

Graves sighed. “That’s what they told everyone, and when people asked for more information, they refused to give it out. No one knows what illness he died of, and that always stuck out to me in a bad way, of course.”

“We know what that feels like,” Credence muttered under his breath. Graves must have caught it, though, as he gave a short chuckle. 

“Abraham was in good health, though. That’s why I was so unbelieving of his illness. I’m sure it may be hard for you to believe me, as most deaths are closely looked into, but I-”

Modesty scoffed. “I believe you, Mr. Graves.”

He seemed taken by surprise, narrowing his eyebrows, quirking his head ever so slightly.

“We grew up with her,” Credence added in support of Modesty’s claim. “We’ve seen the kind of power Mary Lou has.”

He continued with his stories, telling them all about Abraham and their time together at Harvard, even including a few tales of their trips back to New York. The three managed to laugh as Graves explained one particularly rough trip where they got mugged outside of a bar and had to sleep on park benches in Central Park.

“He was a good man. He only ever married that old bat because his parents wanted him to, and he did most things that they told him to do. He was a bit brainwashed by them, you see.”

Credence felt a creeping anxiety as Graves talked. He was reminded of what he told him that night, about how he reminded him of Abraham. Is that what he meant?

“I went to the wedding, despite all of the horrible stories I had heard about her. Well, I was the best man, so I had a feeling of obligation to go anyways. She hated me from the second she met me, doing her best to distance me from Abraham completely. After the wedding, none of my letters were returned, and I doubt he ever even got to read them.”

Credence swallowed sharply, ignoring the lump in his throat. “So… you think she killed him?”

He sighed, taking a large swig of his drink. After a moment of contemplation, he continued. 

“Yes. She clearly had him trapped, manipulating him into what she wanted him to be. It was horrible, the stories I had heard him at the funeral. He had a bad reputation amongst the people here, a rude, solitary man. I assure you, that wasn’t what Abraham was. To hear those things… it drove me crazy for some time.”

For a moment, Graves stopped rambling to look at the two. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“No,” Credence mumbled, looking into his eyes, feeling more and more comfortable with the man as time progressed. “It’s not exactly unbelievable, considering the side of her we’ve seen.”

Something of a smile crept on his face. “Thank you. I tried explaining myself to the others from the old Harvard gang, but they thought I was just crazy. Well, they always had this idea that Abraham and I were a thing at one point, so they thought I was going through extreme grief, but I knew what I was talking about, an-”

“Were you a thing?” Credence interrupted, heart pounding.

Graves looked into his eyes. “He was my best friend.” Credence averted his eyes to the ground, feeling a bit guilty. “He was my best friend, and he died in such a mysterious way, and no one seemed to care.”

“I’m sorry,” Modesty interjected. “That sounds terrible. What did you do?”

He shrugged. “I investigated for a long time, but I had no evidence, and Mary Lou was far too private of a woman for me to easily collect any.”

“So what brought you back now?” Modesty muttered.

He looked into her eyes now, noticing the tears beginning to form. “I think that’s enough for today.”

“Please,” she whispered. “I need to know more.”

Graves sighed, leaning back in the chair. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you two to be so… eager to accept my views of her. Here I was, thinking she had you properly brainwashed.”

“I’ve been wising up to a few things,” Modesty began, interrupting Graves once again. Something she had been taught to never do, especially when a man was speaking. It seemed like what she was saying was very important, however. “Been thinking about the past… things that happened, things that didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Credence asked gently, intrigued in the new developments of his sister. Maybe he could trust her more than he thought.

She looked at the ground, tears welling at the sides of her eyes. “You have to promise not to get mad at me, Credence.”

His heart rate began to pick up, and his mind was racing with all sorts of terrible things that she might say. “Of course,” he whispered.

“Mary Lou ordered me to spy on you… she’s been really suspicious of you lately. I mean, more than usual. When I was searching your room one day, while you were out with Newt, I found your hiding spot. Underneath the rug.”

Credence’s eyes shot wide open in fear. “Did you tell her about it? Did you look inside?”

“No, and yes.”

He was able to calm down, if only for a moment, knowing that it was still a secret to Mary Lou. Nevertheless, he had felt as though whatever semblance of privacy he had, hidden away in that loose floorboard, was lost forever.

“I read some of the books,” she explained. “And I saw all your beautiful art. I’m so sorry, Credence. I know I shouldn’t have looked, but I did. Anyways… the drawings were so devastating, and… when I looked at them, I had suddenly realized how crazy it all was. Some tired witch hunt. I saw what she did to you, and I knew then that I couldn't trust Mary Lou. I knew that I never wanted to be like her.”

Graves took a swig of his drink, and Credence was beginning to wish he had some alcohol of his own.

“It’s alright,” Credence replied, voice barely above a whisper. “I forgive you. Thank you for being honest with me.”

They shared an odd moment, looking at one another with the same sad, tired expression in their eyes. Then they looked back to Graves, and everything was understood. The Barebone children were not brainwashed by Mary Lou any longer, and it was time to find the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do ya think? I tried to incorporate some art knowledge here. hope I didn't use it completely wrong. thanks for reading!! tell me what you think in the comments!! love hearing your thoughts.  
> also, links to the art talked about in the first half of the chapter  
> Frida Kahlo: https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ap-art-history/later-europe-and-americas/modernity-ap/a/kahlo-the-two-fridas-las-dos-fridas
> 
> Pablo Picasso's progression of self portraits: http://www.boredpanda.com/pablo-picasso-self-portrait-style-evolution/


End file.
